TO the Death of the King
by AoSora.Minami
Summary: Versailles, France is Sophia's home, seated in the center of the Britannian empire. She hates the Empire. She loves the Japanese. And the moment she's shipped off to Ashford Academy, she sees her chance to fight for the Japanese dancing in front of her.
1. Disclaimer

**Hello, everyone!**

I just wanted to let you all know that this story was originally an RP thread with my friend Grace. I'm posting this all up because I thought it would be nice for our odd RP to get a review or two. Besides, who doesn't like a little recognition?

Anyways, this entire thing is unedited and I don't own any of her characters or Code Geass. If I did…I wouldn't be typing this. .

I apologize, Gracie-kun! Please forgive me for showing off our writing talents! *bows low many times over* Please… v.v

**With much love and appreciation**,

**AoSora_Minami**, or Sora or whatever…


	2. Ichiban

Sophia Blackfeld gave the softest of sighs, tracing small-print words of strategy and well-thought battle plans in a red-covered book. She breathed slowly, absorbing each word as if it were a gift from a god, her blue eyes flitting from paragraph to paragraph, page to page. This book, The Art of War, was the most intelligently written book - so many tactics and conditions that had to be met in order for the tactics to work., so many positions and procedures.

She smiled twistedly, reading through to the next page where she placed her bookmark and closed the book, setting it down under the Tiffany lamp on her nightstand. Closing her sky blue eyes, she stretched out her arms and legs, joints stiff from being in one position for too long. She sighed for the second time and reopened her eyes, tossing her legs over the edge of the couch and standing.

Padding over to the needlessly large window, a dismal frown took over her face.

The sun still shone through the clouds blanketing the sky and Britannian children still played outside in the courtyard of her father's home, tossing a pink ball to each other. Maids stood close by, monitoring their play time and rushed over if any of the children fell or hurt themselves in any way. These children were quite young, only six to nine-years-old each.

They were so naive in their fun that it was painful.

Sophia couldn't remember the last time she'd had a solid childish moment when she was younger, having been raised up as Duke Blackfeld's daughter. Every day, she was instructed to do proper noble things like perfect her posture and study habits - was entirely unnecessary considering that, even though she was the Duke's daughter, she wasn't planning on taking his place when the time came - and even punish an Eleven the correct and brutal way that would meet everyone's expectations.

She would never lay a hand on an Eleven, for she was half.

A war was set into motion seven years ago in 2010, ten years to the day after Sophia was born. The Britannian Empire waged this war on most of the world and by the end of it, the Empire assumed control over one-third of the entire world. In its triumph, the Empire stripped Japan of its name and rights and renamed it Area Eleven, naming the defeated country's indigenous people Elevens.

Ten years before the war, as was mentioned, Duke Weiss Blackfeld took advantage of an unsuspecting Japanese maid, throwing her frail frame onto his lavish and heavily cushioned bed, where he pressed on to rape her. Bruises curved along the delicate crooks of her body, staining her wrists and small chest, her body branded by the Duke's careless drunken need to feel more power than he already felt. This woman that served him in any way she possibly could, Minami Amane, was now pregnant with his child.

Sophia closed her eyes again and turned away from the window, leaning up against the blue wall of the room her father set aside for her when school was on scheduled break.

Seeing the signs of her pregnancy, the Duke willingly forbade her from working and kept her in a less populated area of his home, hiring maids to keep quiet and take care of the woman that would bear his child. He fed her anything she requested and gave her anything she wished, treating her as if she was as holy as the Britannian Empire for which she served. However, on that fateful day, when she pushed a blond baby girl from her loins, her cervix tore and she bled out all over the bed she was given, dying instantly. The Duke took the baby and raised it as a noble, disposing of her mother's body in a less honorable manner than she deserved. Minami Amane was dressed in a beautiful blue kimono and set ablaze in a crematorium, her body slowly turning into ash. And, without hesitation, her ashes were poured into an expensive and enormous Dutch urn, forever on display in the center of the foyer in the Duke's home.

She opened her eyes and looked over towards her blue laptop, deciding it may be best not to think too much about such ancient and dismal family history. Working her way over to her laptop which sat uniform on her mahogany desk, she spared the playing children one last glance and prayed they would grow into wonderful people and never harm an Eleven. She pulled out her blue arm chair and plopped right into it, setting her laptop in her lap and opening it.

Pressing the power button... The screen lit up with its usual white glow as it turned itself on. Sophia leaned her head in her hand and breathed slowly, the familiar buzz of her laptop comin on as it's fan kicked into gear.

"Sophia!" howled a girlish voice, interrupting her silence.

The blond frowned and rolled her eyes. "I'm in here!" she returned, hoping to high-heaven that the person approaching her room wasn't who she thought it was.


	3. Niban

Blake Addison burst into Sophia's room. But despite her rushed entrance, she stopped a little ways into the room to catch her breath, hands on her knees. Boy, was she out of shape.

Her flyaway, shoulder-length brown hair was more flyaway than usual from her running. Her tan buttoned-up shirt and knee-length orange skorts were disheveled from running. Her skin was tanned from spending afternoons playing in the sun. If one looked at her, the furthest thought from their mind would be that she was the daughter of a duchess.

After a minute Blake straightened, the freckles on her face marring from her grin. "What are you doing all cooped up in here? It's beautiful outside! Come on, get off that thing and let's race around the courtyard," she urged.

Sophia rolled her blue eyes and looked down at her fully-loaded laptop screen. There was a small white bar next to a picture of a wolf mask that said 'password' in italicized letters. Behind the bar and picture was a background of black and blue crackle designs, shatters and cracks. She moved her finger on the small mouse-pad and clicked on the bar, typing in her short but incredibly difficult password.

"And?" she questioned in bland monotone, smiling slightly as she logged in successfully and proceeded to move her finger around the mouse-pad to her Internet application and tap on it to open it up. "I hope your bratty sister doesn't work her way up here." A pause. "I know that's not all you came up here to tell me."

Truth be told, Sophia was very good at pretending to know more than she already did in order to get information out of people. And she strongly disliked her cousin's sister.

If Blake indeed allowed her sister, Imogen Blackfeld, a purebred Britannian, to follow her, she wasn't sure what she would do. The girl was around fourteen-years-old and retained no manners or respect towards her elders, especially not the elderly women. What's more, she harbored absolutely no respect for Elevens or anyone associated with them. She paraded around without a care in the world and treated others like her slaves, not having the decency to even call them by their names.

It was a sickening behavior, in Sophia's eyes. While she may not have any actual respect toward anybody, at least she pretended and treated everyone equally. Sophia had no maids, opting not to. Human servitude, no matter if it was voluntary or not, never sat well with her.

And while Imogen may not share the same last name as Blake, the two were _very_ blood related.

She closed her eyes and kicked her feet up onto her mahogany desk and moved the mini-touch mouse-pad on her laptop up to the search field in the menu bar. "Please tell me she didn't follow you up here." Tapping on the right keys, the words 'Ashford Academy' came up and she tapped on the 'enter' button. A small smile lit up her face when the school's homepage popped up.

Blake rubbed the back of her neck and didn't look at Sophia, even though the action was unnecessary when the blond girl was absorbed in her laptop. "You really want me to lie, or you want the truth?" she muttered nervously.

"Blake! Where are you?" the shrill call of a girl echoed from the door. Unlike Blake's amiable twitter, this one's was nasally and high pitched.

The brown haired girl shuddered visibly. That was answer enough. "Look if she finds us, she's just gonna start trouble. Let's sneak out your window? Please?" she said, jogging over to Sophia and poking her forearm in a childish manner.

Blake didn't like her little sister. Although she was sixteen and two years her senior, she always felt that Imogen had been born the boss of her. That would have been okay - only, with Imogen around, Blake could do nothing but sit around and read. Ugh.

This was why she liked Sophia better. Sometimes she would get off of her computer and spend time with her outside. Sometimes. But that was better than never.

Imogen was getting closer, from the sharper trills down the hall, and Blake tugged on a lock of Sophia's blond hair. "Come on, Soph'! She's coming!" she groaned at the thought of Imogen setting her beady blue eyes on them.

Sophia didn't budge, not even paying attention to Blake's please. She let out an exasperated sigh and spun around in her chair, feet lazily strewn about on the floor.

"Sophia, your stupid dad wanted me to tell you that you'll be restarting your studies at a new school this year," the brat announced, waltzing right into her room with even a knock or a question for permission to enter. "Also, he's setting up a dorm room for you there."

"Let me guess, gaki, Ashford Academy? I'm not surprised. What do you want?" she grumbled quietly at the little brown-haired girl. Imogen may have a kind face but she was far from it. The hedonistic, egotistical, ugly little brat... Sophia didn't like her because of her disrespect for anyone with even a tiny smidgeon of Japanese blood. Her respect for her elders was equally as low, hence why she always referred to someone as stupid.

"Hmph. You won't be living here in Versailles anymore, Sophia. You'll be living in Area Eleven," Imogen snapped with childish disgust. "You'll have to walk around the dirty Elevens and work with dirty Elevens."

"Shut up. If it weren't for the Elevens, you wouldn't have a decent set of clothes to put on every morning," Sophia quipped, clicking on the 'Facilities' list on Ashford's main page, smiling twistedly as the full list popped up. "If I were you, I'd be grateful. But I'm smart enough not to need someone to pick out my clothes or boss around."

Imogen frowned indignantly and crossed her arms over her otherwise flat chest, glaring at Sophia. "Whatever! Maybe they shouldn't have lost the war!"

"Maybe you should shut up."

Sophia read through the different amenities that the school presented, her eyebrow quirking. She was impressed. Full bathrooms, master bedrooms, dining rooms, tvs, a kitchen with all the utilities available, fully remodeled rooms, chandeliers, running water, free trash pick-up, shampoos, conditioners, toothpastes, fully stocked refrigerator... The dorms were pretty cool. They were fully furnished too.

"Hmm... Blake, you'll be attending that school, too, won't you?" she asked, turning her head towards the active girl. She didn't understand why she let her sister boss we around. The brat was younger than she was. She should take charge.

"Yes!" Imogen barked, obviously wanting attention.

Blake visibly flinched when Imogen came strutting into the room. The girl was perfect; a little porcelain doll come to life. She wore dresses and skirts all the time and was the picture of prim. She looked like a duchess' daughter.

Her elder sister, on the other hand, looked more like a commoner's daughter.

Not that Blake really cared - she didn't like dresses, and she'd much rather have the freedom of being able to run around without getting told to act ladylike. (Her tutors had given up on that long ago.) But when it came to their mother's affections, Imogen had the spotlight. Their father was always away on business or something. Imogen held all parental attention around her tiny little finger.

It was irritating. But tolerable.

"Blake, you'll be attending that school, too, won't you?" Sophia asked in her cool-water voice.

The brown haired girl blinked from her stupor. "Eh?"

"Yes!" Imogen piped.

"Eh?" Blake blinked a few times before glancing at Sophia's computer screen. Ashford Academy was currently up on the browser. Blake's blue eyes grew twice the size of her face and she grabbed the laptop. "EHH? I'm going here? Since when?" she yelped in alarm.


	4. Sanban

When Blake gave her confused reply, Sophia blinked and turned her attention to the doll-like annoyance standing before her. Imogen was impatiently tapping her small foot and tightly hold her arms over her chest. "Did you enroll her without permission, Imogen?" she quelled, quirking a thin blond eyebrow with mild irritation.

The brown-haired girl's face went a deep shade of red and her mouth hung open slightly, surprised at Sophia's question. "How did you-"

"You're a fool. The walls are thin and when you're mother finds out, you'll be grounded for ages," Sophia chimed, swirling her finger around on the touch-pad. Right under the 'Facilities' link was the 'Classes' link. She moved her finger on the touch-pad up to the link and not even two seconds later, the offered courses popped up.

Imogen stood there, flustered, her brows furrowed with anger. "Shut up, you big meanie!"

Sophia turned away from the thoughtless brown-haired girl in her chair and looked up at Blake with her cool blue eyes. "I guess you'll be attending Ashford with me. Well, let's go tell your mother. We can look at the classes later." She tapped on the necessary keys to freeze the computer screen so she could come back to it and closed the laptop.

The best thing about her laptop was that it automatically locked. If Imogen wanted to do anything with it, she would be unable to. The lock was much too difficult to break through and there was a back up lock in case she did get through. State of the art technology did wonders.

She set the wonderful piece of technology on her desk and stood up, stretching out her arms. "Shall we, Blake?"

"Attending that place? For real?" Blake's wide blue eyes settled on her younger sister, who was pouting with her doll-perfect lips sticking together. She looked so cute with her cheeks red and puffed out like that. Their mother always fell for it hook, line, and sinker. Blake turned back to Sophia and nodded. "Alright, I'm coming."

Sophia's house was really a testament to luxury. Maids and other servants flitted about everywhere, ready to help if you were lost or needed any sort of refreshment. Rooms upon rooms and floors upon floors. While the inside was quite lavish, though, Blake normally spent her time outside whenever she visited her uncle and cousin - their garden and courtyard were unrivaled in both beauty and size.

Blake walked a few meters in front of Sophia, who glided on softly. The brown haired girl occupied herself with hopping on only certain patterns on the rug that ran the length of the giant hallway. Her eyes were solidly on her feet as she asked, "Immy really wants to get rid of me, doesn't she?"

Although her face was blank with mild alertness, her voice was heavy. What Imogen had done really did hurt.

"Imogen is a useless brat. She has no feelings and all she wants is to be the center of attention. You're better off with me, anyway," Sophia explained gently, taking careful step after careful step down the lavish hallway.

It was really quite sad what Imogen was doing; All because she was so selfish and begged for the attention. Another thing Sophia didn't like about her cousin. That brat was too selfish to see the harm she inflicted on the people closest to her, especially her sister. Blake received little to no attention from her mother, having to settle for Duke Blackfeld and her own father when they could be present just because Imogen was a greedy little insect.

A frown tugged at the corners of Sophia's full lips, her thin brows furrowing. "I'd rather you be with me, Blake," she said quietly, rounding a corner and continuing on.

There were seven doors on each side of the hall, all shut and each painted a different shade of gold. At the end of the hall was an opening which, in turn, lead to the foyer of the Blackfeld estate. Sophia sighed and occupied herself with the unnecessary designs in the carpeting, analyzing the curves and circles, angels and sizes of the gold patterns in the otherwise red carpet. There were blues and greens, oranges and purples interlaced in swirling lines with gold designs, making the gold pop out.

It was then Sophia realized she lived in an unnecessarily lavish estate.

Nearing the mouth of the hallway, she stopped and looked around, her blue eyes settling on the Dutch urn protruding from the pale tiles in the center of the foyer. Around the urn was a circle of snapdragons, favorite flowers, blue ones. Each flower was trimmed and arranged to perfection, leaning towards the Japanese woman's grave. Just outside of the ring of snapdragons was a circle of periwinkle tiles that acted as a frame for the beautiful array of flowers and the tall burial urn.

Deep inside, Sophia wished she could've met her mother. She never quite got the guidance she needed from a woman, having a neglectful step-mother that she had never even met or seen. There wouldn't be much to say about a woman who she'd never had the...privilege of being in her presence. If only Weiss Blackfeld hadn't raped the maid, if only her mother was stron enough to pull through, if only the stupid Britannian duke hadn't married such a pitiful Britannian woman, Sophia would have a mother. A living one.

_Maa..._ She frowned.

Two stairwells lined the edges of the large, circular foyer, leading to the large, exquisite doors that opened up to the driveway outside. An intricate railing followed the stairs as they went; Underneath the spot Sophia had stopped herself in was a hall (Jut imagine the layout of The Haunted Mansion with Eddie Murphey). This hall lead to the ballroom, and in the ballroom there was a flight of stairs that lead up to the Duke's room.

And the Duke's room was where all the noble family would be hidin out in, Sophia's destination.

"C'mon, Blake. Feel free to talk," she said flatly, taking her leave down the stairs.

Blake frowned as Sophia described Imogen, glad that her cousin couldn't see her expression since she was hopping along in front of her. _But she does have feelings, Soph'._ She'd never say it out loud for fear of an argument with her best friend and favorite cousin, but she'd sure think it. _Immy has feelings._

Ever since they were little, it was true that Imogen had stolen all affections of their mother. At two years old, Blake had watched Liesel (her mother) completely fall in love with the newborn she was to call sister. She'd stand in the doorway of Imogen's nursery and simply watch her mother coo and coddle the pretty little thing. From the very first day, Blake had been afraid to touch Imogen. The doll-like creature would shatter against her rough hand.

While Rodger Addison would make time to play in the yard with her, chasing her and pacifying her need for movement, Liesel had stopped trying all together. She was a lady of propriety who felt that even little ladies shouldn't play so roughly. Somehow, without knowing it, Blake had disappointed her mother. So Liesel turned to this fresh, new chance at a prim daughter. And Blake was left in the yard, a kickball her only companion.

It wasn't until she'd been sent to visit her uncle Wiess that she actually made a friend. Sophia. The blond little angel with eyes of powdery sky blue. She was gentle and paid attention to Blake, a gesture the brunette had only gotten from her father. Uncle Wiess had always been good about playing with her, too, for a while, though he still sort of scared her.

Sophia was more of a sister to Blake than Imogen. So why did Blake stick up for the younger girl who would rather get rid of her than love her, even under her breath?

"C'mon, Blake. Feel free to talk," Sophia said, smashing her self-destructive thoughts.

"A-Ah, right," Blake stammered, turning pink a little. She distracted herself from the embarrassment by switching from hopping on the carpet pattern to spinning every few steps. Her eyes were on the ceiling as she did this, slowly, so she wouldn't get dizzy. The patterns on the ceiling were interesting if one spun while gazing at them. "So what do you think Ashford'll be like? You don't think it'll be a total cram-time academy, do you? I don't know if I could take it," she said with a groan.


	5. Yoban

Sophia continued down the wide staircase, stepping calmly and carefully, her expression blank. She set her thin hand on the rail, walking slowly, every thought in the world rolling around in her blond head.

The day her father told her about her mother's rape and death was the only thought that stuck out.

After seeing the urn for the first time throughout the week, it was Friday, Sophie couldn't help but remember the day. Weiss Blackfeld summoned her to his room on the night before the war with Japan started, Saturday the twelfth of October, and she went, wondering what the Duke might want. She obediently went up to his room where he proceeded to gently lift her up and set her on his knee, a hand curled around her protectively.

_Father looked down at me through the fringes of his almost-white blond hair, his blue eyes stained with some feeling I've never seen him express before. A sad smile curved at the edges of his thin lips and I swear I might've seen his eyes water. His mouth opened a little and all that came out was a choked gasp. He shut his eyes and held me tighter, burying his head into my own._

I didn't know what his problem was. I didn't know why he was sad. All I could do was sit there and throw my tiny arms around his neck and hug him like I usually did when I'd see him sad. I couldn't understand... I wanted to know.

"Daddy, what's wrong?" I asked softly, feeling his grip loosen. When he pulled away from me, he gave me a look of defeat and his smile grew smaller with whatever sadness he'd been experiencing.

"Sophia li Blackfeld..." he began, combing his big fingers through my curled blond hair. It was a gesture of affection, one he usually used when he had something very important to say.

All I wanted to know was why he was sad. And all I get is him giving me affectionate hugs and saddened smiles. I don't understand him. I didn't understand that look on his face. I just do not understand.

"Daddy, tell-"

"I made a mistake, Sophia," he mumbled gently, his tone so soft.

What was he talking about? Did he fund the wrong program? Did he invest in stock and have the stock market crash? Did he lose a bet and have to give everything up? What did he do?

I frowned slightly, my brows crinkling from frustration at my confusion. "What happened, daddy?"

He paused, his face contorting with his failed efforts to keep himself from crying like a baby, his face flushing to a deep red. Whatever it was that bothered him, bothered him a lot. I wrapped my arms around him again in afford to soothe and comfort my father. I was confused but I wasn't about to let my father go without knowing he was cared for.

I do love my father. He's taken care of me for so long and even though I'd rather play outside or read than listen to my borish tutors lecture me over my duties as a future duchess. He'd get mad at me whenever I'd blow off my tutors and go play. I smiled inwardly. Daddy was a good man. He wouldn't ever lay a hand on me no matter how much trouble I got into. He would always just scold me and be done with it, never grounding me or anything.

"Sophia... The reason you are here and your mother is not is because your mother died giving birth to you."

"Daddy, I already know th-"

"But that's not the whole story," he snapped somberly, frowning deeply at himself.

"I don't understand. What happened?" I asked softly, looking down. I didn't like it when he yelled at me. It hurt - a lot. More so than any physical pain that I've ever had to endure.

He took in a shaky breath. "I raped your mother ten years ago and you were conceived of it." 

"A-Ah, right." Blake's stammer rang in Sophia's ears and she looked at the nervous brunette, watching her cheeks turn pink a little. Her cousin's activity had switched from dazedly hopping on the carpet pattern to spinning every few steps. Her eyes were on the ceiling as she turned in her small circles, her face pointed at the ceiling. "So what do you think Ashford'll be like? You don't think it'll be a total cram-time academy, do you? I don't know if I could take it," she said with a groan.

Blake's distraction was well timed.

"I think it'll be interesting, seeing as how you and I have never been to a traditional school before," Sophie blurted absently, a soft and pensive smile curving the corners of her lips. 'Blake, I don't know how I'd survive if you hadn't come along.'

"Mm. Maybe." Blake wasn't sure Sophie's definition of 'interesting' was the same as hers. Interesting in Blake's eyes was that the school would have a multitude of outdoor sport classes that she'd never tried before, or that they had a swimming pool inside and out so she could swim all year, or- well, just anything that didn't involve desk-classes.

The duke's doorway loomed before them now and Blake stopped spinning to march the rest of the way up to it, arms sticking out as if balancing on a tightrope. Sixteen years old and still acting like a kindergartener when it came to doing anything. No wonder her mother got irritated.

"Mom's probably in there with Uncle Weiss." Then Blake stopped and whirled around, blue eyes wide. "Hey, I haven't seen Cyfon since I got here! Where is he? He's usually attached to your hip," she observed amicably.

There were three things that Blake always looked forward to when she visited Blackfeld Court - Sophia, the massive yard, and Cyfon. The dark haired man was the sweetest boy Blake had ever met, but he was also one of the most active. To be both kind and athletic had made Sophia's half brother an instant favorite person of Blake's. Even if he did finish third behind his little sister and a large yard.

Cyfon?

Her brother. Right. Sophia took a moment to let out a cool, calm breath, stepping up the long staircase to her father's area of the estate. The doors loomed over her and Blake in an intimidating manner, what with their mahogany panels being so tall. Intricate designs were carved into the wood, outlined in gold. Naturally.

She closed her eyes. Cyfon. What was he doing again?

Oh, right. Guarding her father.

"Cyfon's been doing a lot of...guard duty lately. Now he and the Duke are attached at the hip," she explained, pressing her thin hand against the split in the doors. "He might freak out if we walk in there unannounced." The mere thought brought a silly going to Sophia's face and she chuckled soothingly, having to cover her mouth to keep quiet.

Cyfon was a _very_ jumpy person when it came to his half-sister. Even at the most obvious of times, even when he _saw_ the blond, he'd jump and almost lose his cool. If permitted, he'd chase her around the ballroom and even down the empty hallways of the Blackfeld estate, eventually catching up to her and gently grabbing her arm. Then he'd give her a stern talking to.

Although, this was almost never the case.

While the black-haired teen may have been Sophia's brother, he still had duties that far outweighed his kinship to the Blackfeld family. His duty was to the Britannian Empire, to Duke Weiss Blackfeld, to Duke Roger Addison, to Duchess Holly Blackfeld, to Duchess Liesel Addison, and, however unfortunate, to Lady Cornelia li Britannia herself. He wasn't typically allowed to pay attention to anyone else unless Duke Blackfeld permitted him to, which wasn't too often. He was always needed for _some_thing. Didn't matter what it was.

What's worse, he obeyed without question.

Sophia gave a mild shake of her head, feeling as if she's thought too much, and shoved the doors of the Duke's room wide open. Shameless. So she thought, Weiss was leaning on his desk, arms crossed, with Liesel and Roger Addison seated comfortably on a leather couch in front of a marble fireplace, their eyes fixated on Sophia and Blake. Cyfon was beside her father in his usual guard position, looking like he was about to melt from the shock of his sister's sudden intrusion.

"Hello, So-" Weiss started, a small smile etched on his face and then a frown when his daughter cut him off.

Without allowing for anyone else to finish speaking or even a regret for interrupting, she opened her mouth and let the words fly. "Aunt Liesel, Uncle Roger, your daughter Imogen decided to enroll Blake into a private school without consoling you." Her lips twitched slightly at Liesel's visible disappointment and Roger's frown. "However, if you wouldn't mind, would you still allow her to attend Ashford Academy with me?"

The room stilled as Sophia tossed her words into her aunt's and uncle's lap, lightly and with quiet enthusiasm. Liesel's eyes took on both surprise and - of course - disbelief. Roger, on the other hand, was frowning. It looked as if he wanted to get up and find Imogen to reprimand her immediately. He looked to Blake, but his eldest daughter wouldn't look at him.

With her lack of attention growing up, the brunette was now increasingly unnerved whenever she was the topic of conversation. It made her extremely nervous. She was suddenly fascinated with the ceiling and playing with her hands. Her two damning traits that announced her discomfort.

"However," Sophia said, making Blake grateful that eyes were away from her once more, "if you wouldn't mind, would you still allow her to attend Ashford Academy with me?"

"Of course," Liesel said before Roger could put in his opinion. "It's such a good school, and prestigious. You should be happy your baby sister would think so highly as to attend you there, Blake. It was probably a surprise. You should thank Immy." Not even a glance in Blake's direction.

The brown haired girl's blue eyes were pointed upward. "Yes, mother."

"No 'yes, Mother'," Roger interjected. He frowned at his wife. "You know very well that it wasn't a surprise, Liesel. At least not a nice one. Bee (Blake) wouldn't be able to breathe in that kind of school," he reasoned.

Blake was messing with her hands again.

"It'd do her some good to have more of a leash. She's almost seventeen and she's acting like a wild child. Going there might teach her propriety," Liesel explained in a way she must have thought was with maternal affection. Instead it sounded distant, like advice given about a friend's daughter.

Roger stared at his wife with familiar exasperation. He was upset with her, again. He even dropped his arm from where it'd been draped behind Liesel on the couch and left her there. Instead, he came over to Blake and tousled her flyaway hair.

"You don't have to go to that stuck up school no matter what your mother or Imogen say, Bee," he said gently, green eyes gleaming as he smiled reassuringly.

Blake beamed warmly - she practically glowed at the fatherly attention. "Actually, I was considering attending it anyway. Soph's going, and she said it might be fun if we went together. Besides, I saw the pictures - with all those fields there's got to be sports programs or something."

Duke Addison's smile dimmed but didn't go away. He only ever frowned at his wife or at Imogen, but not Blake. "...If you're sure." Then he leaned down and whispered, "Don't worry; the little snot won't get away with tricking you. I'll deal with her." A conspiratorial wink.

She grinned in response, but inside she hoped he wouldn't


	6. Goban

Sophia watched the entire Addison Family interaction with a small and gentle smile, leaning back against the solid mahogany doorframe, arms crossed over her chest. It was interesting, to her, that Liesel was so unkind and Roger was doting. Complete opposites as parents. Liesel adored Imogen and shunned Blake, whereas Roger adored Blake and basically shunned Imogen.

The two disagreed on everything when it came to their daughters.

Blake deserved the kindness she received, Imogen did not. Blake was kinder and, really, more gentle and patient with everything and everybody, even though she never really spoke out against anybody. She was more of a peacekeeper. Imogen was a snot-nosed brat with no manners and zero respect for anybody. She treated everyone like they were worthless for no reason at all.

_Only Blake should be allowed the kindness of others,_ Sophia thought bitterly. It wasn't fair at all that Imogen got all the motherly affections. It just wasn't fair.

She blinked and looked over at her half-brother, whom was staring right back at her with his usual knowing look. There was a calm smile in his honey brown eyes and a smirk tilting up the corners of his thin lips. If it wasn't seen as rude or inappropriate, he would have waved his big hands and said hello by now.

However, Cyfon was her brother and rules didn't matter. 3

Sophia pushed herself right off the doorframe and worked her way over to her brother, setting a confident sway to her hips. Why be ashamed? Even though there were only two other people that knew he was her half-brother, it was perfectly acceptable to speak to him. Wasn't it? He was family, have no shame. So she didn't.

"Hello, Cyfon," she chirped kindly above the idle chatter between the Addison family, shoving her hands into her pockets. "How's your day?"

He hesitated. Not a good sign.

_Still haven't gotten used to this, hm?_ Sophia shook her was inwardly, wishing her brother would lighten up. Rules didn't matter so long as you were in the company of family. Rules didn't matter so long as you weren't breaking any. If he would talk, it wouldn't exactly break the rules set in place for guards. In fact, guards were **allowed** to speak because they had to keep whoever they were guarding out of trouble.

So, he should talk.

But he didn't.

With a small sigh, Sophia whipped around, eyeing her father Weiss with a mischievous glint in her blue eyes. "Hey, pops."

Immediately, the blond duke's head spun around and a smile crept across his face. He seemed happy that she was talking to him. She smiled in return. "Yeeees, Sophia?"

"Can Cyfon talk? I wanna talk to hiiiiiiiim."

Weiss nodded cheerily, a hand shooting up to give a thumbs-up. "Oh! By the way, when you go to Area Eleven and start attending Ashford, he'll be going with you. I'd feel safer if he was."

Sophia blinked. "Why? Shouldn't he be here, guarding you?"

"Well...no. He needs to get outta the house and visit home, y'know? Besides, I'm sure he'll enjoy it more if he went along with you," the duke explained, using odd hand gestures and mannerisms to help get his point across.

Unnecessary.

"Oh. I understand." She turned to the quietly blushing boy, a grin smeared across her face. "Now, talk to-"

"Sophia~" Weiss sang shamelessly. So very shamelessly. This simple act made the mentioned girl shudder with obvious disdain. Her father was such a weirdo sometimes. "You might want to start packing up because your flight out of Versailles is at six p.m."

Great.

If Blake had animal ears, they would have perked up. If she had an animal tail, it would have been wagging. He blue eyes were bright.

"Cy's coming with? Really?" She looked over at the embarrassed Eleven standing at attention in the corner. "That's it; I'm totally going now." If two of her favorite people were going to Ashford Academy, she had no choice but to attend.

Liesel made a quiet noise of disgust. To react in such a way towards an Eleven...

Roger blinked at Weiss. "Six? That's only a few hours. Bee doesn't have any of her things ready."

"Just let her go with Sophia and send her belongings later," Liesel suggested as she continued to not spare Blake a glance.

"I want to fly with Soph' and Cy anyway," Blake piped up before Roger could say anything about Liesel's indifference. She was almost bouncing in place. "I've never been to Area Eleven before; I wonder what it'll be like?" She halted. "I should learn Japanese." Turned to Cyfon again. "You should teach me." Then to Sophia. "Let's get your stuff packed! 8D"

Was he out of his mind? Six? That was in three hours. He waited until there was THREE hours left before the flight to tell her that she had to pack. THREE hours.

Well, considering it came from Weiss, it wasn't that bit of a shocker. In fact, it didn't shock Sophia at all. Rather, the speedy enrollment and sudden plane trip was.

Not only that, but the way Liesel talked in such a rude tone towards Blake pissed Sophia off. She frowned visibly and faced Liesel, disappointment clear in her face. Strange. She'd never acted so quickly and thoughtlessly before.

"Listen, Aunt Liesel," she started flatly just to get the woman's attention. When the duchess acknowledged her, she crossed her arms tightly over her chest and continued. "I grow tired of your disapproval of Blake. I don't give a damn if you like her or not. That's purely your choice. But stop treatin her like she's a black stain to your name! She is your daughter, you-"

"Soph'."

Cyfon's and Weiss' warning call sounded in the blond's ears and she instantly shut her mouth, blue eyes downcast, brows furrowed. She was angry at her aunt. She had the right to be.

All that blasted woman thought about was her affections for Imogen. For Imogen. Not for Blake. Imogen didn't deserve her mother's love. Blake did. Only Blake. Blake deserved it all but she still never got to have it. This stupid fact was so...stupid and cruel. But it was still a fact. One that Sophia didn't have the right to barge into.

She realized her little outburst was rude, but if no one else was goin to point out certain flaws in Liesel's awful parenting, who would? Nobody, that's who.

"Father, how much is in my account?" she asked somberly, glaring at the floor.

He sighed quietly and gently laid his warm, big hand on her small shoulder. "About three-hundred."

"Thousand?"

Weiss shook his head. "Three-hundred million."

Sophia didn't budge at the number. Rather, she only blinked and shrugged her father's hand away. "Big number."

"Well, you never buy anything. At least you'll live comfortably for the rest of your life. You're so loved~" the man chimed, stars in his intense blue eyes.

He was an idiot. But a kind one.

"I suppose so." Sophia let out a cool breath and lifted her head. "Uncle Roger, Aunt Liesel, I will be buying all that Blake asks of me. Don't worry about her clothes."

Problem. Solved. Dammit.

Cyfon smiled approvingly, resisting the urge to reach out and hug his little sister, quickly realizing it would be bad-news-bears if he did. He wished he could. Well, he would be able to once they left Versailles and flew out to Area Eleven - no, Japan.

"That's my baby girl~" Weiss sang lovingly and joyfully, his hands clapped together and bent by his blond head.

She rolled her eyes.

_Stupid dad...damn...Liesel...lotsa money... Stupid..._ she pouted inwardly.

"You're so kind, Lady Sophia," Cyfon complimented sweetly, bowing to the appropriate degree.

Hmph. Stupid Cyfon...

Blake had shrunken when Sophia had snapped at Liesel, reaching up a hand as if to stop her, but Roger had taken that hand and squeezed it gently. She looked up into his green eyes and understood: Roger thought the same as Sophia. This didn't make her feel any better. "Papa..."

"Uncle Roger, Aunt Liesel," Sophia spoke up, making the man and his daughter turn to her, "I will be buying all that Blake asks of me. Don't worry about her clothes."

It was a moment right out of an anime - Blake's face went from curious to puking blood.

"No way!" she squeaked, cerulean eyes huge with alarm. She hadn't needed to hear the amount of Sophia's money - Blake knew she was loaded beyond reasoning. The girl never bought anything for herself. Yet the amount still dwarfed the allowance Blake would have gotten if she'd saved every penny for twenty years.

And while the Addison family weren't the richest of dukes, there was one trait Blake had gotten from this bloodline: She did NOT like other people spending money on her. It was a chore for her even to accept the allowance Roger sent her every two weeks or so.

Blake shook her head, still looking comically flustered. "I have my own money; I can take care of that!" Three million was just too big of a number for her to handle.

Roger smiled fondly at his daughter's panic and tousled her messy hair affectionately. "If she wants to ride with you then we'll go with your aunt's plan, Sophia. Thank you for taking care of Bee, even if she's only a year younger than you," he said politely.

The brunette hurried up to Sophia and took her hands, determined. "Anyway, we're wasting time here. Let's go get your stuff packed. And on the way I want Japanese lessons from the both of you," she said decidedly, looking from Sophia to Cyfon with a grin.

Liesel, meanwhile, stared into the fireplace with quiet irritation etched into her features. What a troublesome niece, that Sophia was. She needed to mind her own business. It was bad enough that Roger lectured her on being a better mother to Blake. It was hard when the girl was a ditzy tomboy who loved Elevens. A pointed glare at Cyfon. Failure of a daughter or not, Liesel didn't like the idea of Blake being around Cyfon. Not one bit.

Sophia blinked awkwardly at the cousin she so defended, a simple smile slipping into her features. She gently held Blake's hands and lead her out of Weiss's room in a quick fashion, motioning with her eyes for Cyfon to follow. Once out of the room, she let go of Blake and reached for the mahogany doors to close them. She swirled around on her heels to face her cousin and half-brother.

"Well, come along then. Let's et me packed up. I'll be buying you a fresh and normal wardrobe when we reach Japan, big bro," Sophia chimed, a bright smile replacing her earlier simple one.

"T-that's not necessary, Sophia. Honest. I have clothes already!" Cyfon squeaked defensively, waving his hands nervously out in front of him.

"Too late. I'm replacing it."

"Why? T^T"

"Because I love you. ❤" Sophia smiled very warmly and skipped of down the stairs that lead into the ballroom, taking the steps one by one then two by two and so on slowly, careful not to fall.

Truthfully, she did love her brother. He could be an Eleven all day long. She would still love him. Everyone deserves love - to a point. Not everyone deserves ALL the love in the world just because someone treated them like they did. It wasn't fair to anyone else. At all. In fact, it was downright _rude_.

"Maa, Blake. I don't care if you won't accept what I buy for you because you **will** take it. ^^"

Sophia was in a kind mood today. Well, to her brother and cousin. Only them.

"But, Sophia... It's rude to force someone to do something they don't want to do," Cyfon chided softly, like a mother would a child that did something only slightly rude. He was a motherly boy.

She smiled. "I know. 3"

"Ne, Sophia-chan, ganbatte, baka," the boy mumbled, a sweet pout on his pristine and gentle face.

_I don't know why he told me that I had an older brother. I didn't know why my older brother lived with us until he told me. I don't understand. There's so much he tells me that I never knew, that I never understood, that I can never understand. Why was he telling me such things?_

I tilted my head at the black-haired boy standing before me, his honey eyes cast at our mahogany flooring. He was a very shy boy, from the looks of him. Whenever I'd look at him, he'd look away from me. It was like he was afraid of me.

"Sophia, this is Cyfon," my father told me, leaning over my shoulder and warmly nuzzling my ear. "He's your only brother."

"Daddy, how old is he?" I asked him, staring at the black-haired- staring at _**Cyfon**__ the whole time._

"He's twelve."

"Oh."

He nodded - the both of them and Cyfon looked down at me with a touch of kindness in his honey eyes, smiling very shyly. His face was slightly rounded, his eyes typical for that of a Japanese person, and his lips were thin. His face was kind and smiling even when he frowned or looked nervous. He was strange.

"He's here to serve both you and I the best he can. It's all he wants to do," Weiss, my father, blathered on.

"Is that true?" I inquired gently, looking at my brother carefully.

He only blushed and nodded lightly, scratching the back of his head bashfully. I smiled.

"Maa, onegaidakara!" Sophia howled excitedly, leaping down the last five steps of the stairwell, ignoring her brother's playful comment.

The flight was in a little less than three hours now, so packing was more of a priority. It usually took about an hour to get to the airport and half an hour to get through security and work your way through airport security. They were more pressed for time than Sophia realized. She frowned slightly and turned to face Cyfon and Blake.

"You guys, we gotta hurry!" she yelled almost imaptiently, spinning around on her toes and taking off to the foyer.

Blake looked at Sophia was destitude. "But I don't want it! QAQ"

"But, Sophia... It's rude to force someone to do something they don't want to do," Cyfon said in his soft-spoken tone.

"I know. 3"

"Ne, Sophia-chan, ganbatte, baka."

"Maa, onegaidakara!" Sophia interjected as she jumped the last five stairs, waving them on.

"..." Blake avoided looking at Cyfon, cheeks tinged pink, and leaped down the steps in only a few strides like the expert mover that she was. She scurried next to Sophia and kept her voice low so Cyfon couldn't hear her. "Soph', you've got to teach me Japanese. I have no idea what either of you are saying!" she said with embarrassment.

Blake had been fascinated with the language of Elevens ever since she'd met Sophia and Cyfon. They were both fluent in it, and it was almost like their very own secret code. Blake would have respected that - they were brother and sister, and Sophia was the only blood relative Cyfon had - but lately Blake simply got more and more embarrassed when Sophia would yip a bit of Japanese or Cyfon would murmur a phrase of moon-speak, and the brown haired girl would have NO CLUE what they'd said.

She jogged next to Sophia now, who had acquired more energy because of their tight time limit. "Also - I've kinda..." She stopped and sped up. "Never mind, let's go!"

Cyfon was not a cousin of Blake's by blood. If it wasn't for Sophia's relation with him, Blake would not be related to him at all. After initializing these simple facts, she decided that having a teensy little crush on her cousin's half-brother was sort of okay. Kind of. Maybe it wasn't? She didn't know, but she assured herself that it was only because Cyfon was so sweet and shy and capable and handsome-

STOP.

Blake had a childish crush on her best friend's big brother. It was nothing - just a flight of adolescent fancy. That's what Liesel would say. Still...it would be nice to have a conversation with Cyfon in his native language. His voice was nice when he spoke English - it was infinitely more alluring in that mysterious Eleven tongue.


	7. Rokuban

Sophia grinned playfully. "Cyfon said, 'Oh well, Sophia, good luck, stupid.'" She giggled musically and continued, passing her mother's urn without even a glance. She didn't need to look at it. She didn't want to. "And I said, 'Oh well, come on!'"

She bolted up the rounding stairwell in the foyer, taking each step in sets of two. Paying little attention to the intricate designs of the railings or the carpeting, she just ran, feeling her time shortening by the second. Her breath was leaving and entering her lungs quickly as she went, ringing in her ears like airy doorbells. Speaking of her lungs, they were burning slightly.

Heh. She was really outta shape. Even her thighs were starting to ache.

"Hey, Soph'! Wait for us!" Cyfon pipped, his footsteps sounding close behind her.

"No!" she squealed, huffing and spluttering helplessly. "We gotta get packed up!"

To be quite honest, Sophia didn't want to be late. Being late would be a black mark on her reputation. She had to have a perfect reputation, otherwise if anything went wrong, she could be suspect for what happened. She didn't want that. Well, for this specific event, if she was late, she'd miss her flight to Japan. Which would be bad.

Bad. Bad, bad, bad.

It was when she stopped at the mouth of the hallway she went through much earlier that an idea began to form and rattle around in her brain. It took a while for her to catch her breath, lungs burning, thighs on fire. This idea was a seed, maybe, that could grow into a well-thought tree of a plan.

She could show up on time for everything and do something behind the scenes. But what? What was there for her to do? What about Britannia? What about Japan? What about the Japanese?

Sophia took a long lead, but not because she was faster than Blake. The brunette slowed down with the weight of her mild depression. "I wanna learn Japanese. TAT"

Presently she was now jogging alongside Cyfon, who looked at his sister's sprint with a slight frown. "Hey, Soph'! Wait for us!" he called.

"No!" Sophia squeaked. "We gotta get packed up!"

Blake watched her cousin's desperate rush, blinking. "She's faster than I remember." She paused, still running, and then turned to Cyfon. She grinned and demonstrated the only kind of flirting she was capable of, even if it wasn't intentional: "Last one to her room's a rotten egg!"

She pulled ahead, but she knew Cyfon would probably catch up in a few strides of his long legs. Still, she threw a smile in his direction. "On-a-guy dagger-ah!"

Sophia let out one last soothing breath and made an absolute _break for it_, not bothering to turn and see what Blake had said, or even what Cyfon might have said in return. All thoughts virtually out the window (she figured it would be better to leave long, hard thoughts alone until she got on the plane to Japan), she bolted down the mahogany halls of her childhood home, swerving around the maids and guards that lines every wall and protectively coddled any expensive urns and vases. Her goal was her bedroom, which sat at the very end of an extensive hallway. The very hallway she just now turned onto, that is.

Her lungs were on fire, burning in her increasing efforts to reach her room and pack up. Her legs were tensing and blazing along with her chest, the muscles probably in disbelief at her sudden anaerobic runs. If she wasn't so determined to leave the Blackfeld estate, her body would have given up by now and allowed her to crash and burn like it normally would. But it could recognize a press for time and sense the urgency.

The flight was at six and only a few minutes have ticked by, but every second counted.

She flashed right into her blue-ified bedroom, immediately swerving and dashing to her closet. Flinging the mirror doors open, she buried herself in her massive rack of clothes and shoes, books and more books, video cameras and computer equipment, and whipped three large suitcases out of the unnecessarily large pile of crap.

"Sophia!" Cyfon's voice chided gently from behind her, panting and tired.

"Shut up and fill them!" the blond croaked, tossing the suitcases at the black-haired boy without a second thought, her heart beating as fast as it possibly could and her lungs burning as hot as they could. She was tired. But there was still work to be done.

"One for clothes, one for my computer stuff, and the other for my books!" she snipped, hunched over in a bit of a coughing fit. Each small cough felt like pin needles in her throat, ravaging her lungs like it ain't no thing but a chicken wing. Good lord, she really wasn't in good shape. She huffed and frowned a little bit.

Cyfon gave his over-worked little sister a concerned smile, setting her blue suitcases down and opening each as gently as he could as if they would explode if he wasn't careful. Carefully, very carefully, he did this and looked up at Blake with his brown eyes, tilting his head towards Sophia. "Just separate clothes from books and books from electronics," he mumbled softly. "It's best just to be quiet and help."

Indeed.

Sophia had an explosive temper. Well, most times. She would only really explode if something broke or if she burnt anything she was cooking, which wasn't rare. However, time and urgencies was another thing that could set her off. Nobody knew why, but to Sophia, everything and everyone had to be perfectly on time or else it created a sort of black mark on her reputation. Truth be told, she was right.

Clothes? Books? Electronics? Those had to be the main themes, didn't they? Blake inwardly groaned but flashed a smile at Cyfon with a little effort.

Being an outdoor child, Blake wasn't exactly adept with computers and digital devices. They looked fragile and weak, and she feared she'd break them just by touching them. And clothes? Imogen freaked if she got a tiny wrinkle in one of her dresses. Blake wasn't sure how Sophia would react, but knowing her inexplicable temper at times, the brunette didn't want to risk the wrath.

Books. Yes. Those were her best bet.

Blake bolted for the giant bookshelf and began taking tomes by the armful to the suitcase designated by Cyfon. She continued to move like lightening, but a few of the titles made Blake's brow furrow with confusion. _The Art of War_, _Tactics and Strategy_, _The Battlefield of Cold War_. What in the world was her cousin reading?

Of course, other genres were mixed in, but war seemed to dominate Sophia Blackfeld's bookshelf. It was eerie. However, Blake wouldn't bring it up. Something in her gut told her not to talk about it - at least, not in this place.

The suitcase was filled in a few minutes, books stacked not for neatness but for space, and Blake turned to find Cyfon done with the electronic bag and Sophia with her clothes. Blake slammed the textbook-case shut and picked it up. "You call a cab yet, Soph'?" Being nearly middle class, Blake had forgotten that her insatiably rich older cousin would have a private car already waiting for them.

"You call a cab yet, Soph'?"

Blake's simple question rang in Sophia's slightly pointed ears like a bell, clanging around in her brain. Cab? A cab? Didn't she have a limousine? Didn't she have a driver? Didn't they ALL have drivers? Why would they need a cab? Did they even have cabs in Versailles?

Her face screwed up into an expression of confusion. "What are you talking about? "

Cyfon chuckled with amusement, his hands going to work on zipping up the electronics section of his sister's suitcases. He smiled warmly, leaning back on his elbows. "Sophia's confused~" he sang cheerily, his smile widening at the twisted look of 'what the hell are you people talking about' on her face.

She stared at the black-haired boy, her face swirling back to its normal bored expression, and she stood. Dusting herself off, she placed her thin hands on her wide hips and spun around on her toes, taking wobbly step by wobbly step to get to her door. Her shins were still in an unnecessary amount of pain, burning and straining in all their glory. The door was only ten feet away.

"Ne, Sophia, are you going to carry your suitcase?" Cyfon questioned gently.

"Iie, baka!" she snapped, continuing on in her almost useless endeavor to reach the hall. She frowned, noting that she was _eight feet away_ from her destination. So close but so very far away. She glared helplessly at the hallway, walking as steadily as she could.

Cyfon shrugged and dutifully got to his own feet, latching his fingers around the handles of the two suitcases Sophia left behind and lifted them. Surprisingly, they weren't that heavy even though they were filled to the brim with clothes and computer things like mouses, mousepads, USBs, keyboards, cameras, web cameras, scanners, monitors, speakers, hard drives, wires, fans, removable hard drives, circuit boards, then t-shirts, coats, skinny jeans, tank tops, skirts, dresses, bracelets, hair accessories, underwear, bras - he twitched and mouthed a long 'ewwwwwwwwww', hobbling on after his blond sister.

Ew. Anything surrounding women's underwear was just flat out disturbing. He couldn't he actually made that assessment of her belongings. Panties. He blushed with the embarrassment of having noted such a thing and inwardly smacked himself. TAT He frowned and did everything he possibly could not to look at Sophia. If he did, some awful dirty thought of her panties would cross his mind and the little garments would probably replace her face.

Must...not...look...

"Cyfon, carry those down to the foyer. Mr. LeMaster will load them into the limo, okay?" Sophia explained, finally reaching the hall. She grinned cruelly and hopped up and down. "Ha! Take that, stupid legs!" And she immediately regretted that simple action because her shins were now on absolute FIRE and she had half a mind to cry.

The poor older boy did, indeed, envision panties as his sister's regretful face.

He swore he was going to die a lonely man from that moment forward. Being alone would allow him to avoid such strange and awkward things. He wouldn't have to see panties as faces. Hell, he wouldn't have to see panties PERIOD. Thank the gods. He was definitely going to stay a lonely man.

He waddled out of the room with Sophia's suitcases in tow, walking very quickly. He needed to be away from the slumping girl or he'd thing of panty-faces again.

Sophia looked around the room pathetically, her eyes landing on her mahogany desk. There sat a beautiful metallic blue laptop, curved and perfectly shaped, beckoning to her. Her blue eyes widened and she about died. "GODDAMN IT!"

Blake looked from her wobbly cousin to the scarlet-colored Eleven, blinking. She dropped it, though, lugging up the suitcase of books and fast-walking alongside Cyfon with Sophia at the lead.

Just as she and Cyfon were out the door, however, a screech of mortification and fury rang out: "GODDAMMIT!"

Blake raised her hands like a gun was pointed at her and the heavy suitcase plopped next to her right foot. "I TOUCHED NOTHING! QAQ" There was NO WAY this side of hell that the brunette wanted anything to do with Sophia Blackfeld's unmitigated rage. Ever.

Sophia growled in all her anger, not even bothering to care anymore at the fact her shins hurt like hell as she stomped over to her desk. Each step shot a wave of pain and agony up her legs. But she didn't give a damn. Her laptop was placed neatly on her desk and it was her prized possession - the ONE thing she forgot to pack.

"You're a bastard! Stupid laptop!" she snapped, disgracefully curling her fingers around the edges of the unsuspecting piece of technology and ripped it from the clutches of her evil mahogany desk, angrily returning to her pack of family members and suitcases, every irritated stomp shattering her stressed shins.

Cyfon stared at the ball of anger that was his sister, face reddening with confusion. Was she seriously mad about her laptop? He shook his head slightly and continued down the hall, blinking every time his little sister's feet stomped.

Sophia was now ahead of him, slamming her feet down on the floor, and she was certainly unhappy as he rounded each corner and took angry step after angry step down the stairs, passing the urn in the foyer, and stopping right in front of the unimaginably large mahogany doors of the Blackfeld estate, tapping her foot loudly against the marble floor.

Blake scuttled out of her older cousin's seething path, green eyes huge. She didn't question the practicality of being angry at a laptop - she was simply glad that it wasn't her that Sophia was mad at. She made a tiny sigh of relief and gathered the suitcase up again.

While the brown haired girl outwardly showed her fear for Sophia's temper, at least internally there was no repercussions. She never took it to heart when the blond teen was mad. Imogen, on the other hand - well, there ought to be awards for holding grudges for so long and with such ferocity. At least Sophia would forget little things that Blake accidentally did. Imogen would be there at her deathbed recalling how her elder sister stepped on her foot and scuffed up her favorite shoes - when she was SIX.

Now, Blake spotted the impatient Sophia and bolted past her down the steps. Her green eyes faced straight forward. _Better than Immy, anyway._


	8. Shichiban

Sophia leaned up against the marble door frame of the Blackfeld Estate and held her laptop tightly against her chest, viciously growling at it as if it were some satanic device of worship. Which, in all actuality, it was. Well, maybe not Satanic, per say. But wasn't exactly holy, either.

She frowned.

Cyfon had followed her down the steps and was now setting her suitcases down in front of her and Blake, dusting off his hands and smiling widely. He smiled oo much. "There we go. Now, where's the driver?"

"How am I supposed to know?" Sophia quipped, glaring at nothing in particular.

"I dunno... Oh! Much earlier, your dad said that he'd meet us at the airport to say his goodbyes."

"Okay..." She closed her eyes, brows furrowed, and sighed. "Blake."

"Oh yeah," Blake said, perking up after Cy's new information. "We never really said goodbye to everyone, huh? I'll miss Uncle Weiss. He's so funny. w"

Sophia sighed beside her, frowning with her eyes closed. "Blake."

"Hunh?" The brown haired girl blinked at her cousin's unusual seriousness. It made Blake start to sweat a little. "Err...I didn't break anything while we were backing, did I...?"

"No, it's not that." Sophia sighed cooly, reopening her intense blue eyes. "So, how do you feel about this whole sudden move?" she questioned cautiously, wondering vaguely about what it would be like living at Ashford.

Well, the only real difference between living in the Blackfeld estate and living at the school was that there was more people, more social interactions, teachers, and less privacy. All of which were unfortunate. She absolutely _hated_ people she didn't know - especially if they were Britannian. Which, in turn, was a complete contradiction as she was, indeed, also Britannian.

Wait. Didn't Sophia know people from the school?

She closed her eyes again and thought about for a little longer, her grip adjusting on her laptop. She tapped her fingers gently on the cool metal of it, biting on the inside part of her lip. Who the hell did she know? Well, there was a redhead girl with a too-innocent disposition. She was fairly annoying and her voice was too high. Sophia blinked.

Shirley Finette.

There's one. But what about the others? _Were_ there any others? Of course. There had to be. After all, Weiss knew damn near everybody, being one of the highest ranking dukes in the whole of the Britannian empire. So, that being said, Sophia should also know just about everybody too.

Right? Right.

Well, now then. There was a blond who was also on the annoying side but less than Shirley Finette. She was a bit tall, big-breasted, a natural leader, and the leader of- Oh! Milly Ashford. She was the granddaughter of the founder of Ashford, maybe?

Eh. Oh well. She could barely remember these people. Chances were, the would definitely NOT remember her. Sophia let out a small sigh and nearly leapt out of her skin when the large mahogany door of the Blackfeld Estate swung open, a tall an neatly dressed young man swanning right in. He bore a black suit and hat, which he so removed in order to bow politely.

Sophia blinked rapidly.

Cyfon smiled and winked at the man he knew as the limo driver. The man was his friend and the two were almost always picking on the poor jumpy blond who so clutched at her laptop.

"My apologies, Miss Sophia," the driver apologized, an amused grin crawling across his face.

She blinked and slumped over, obviously embarrassed. "It's fine, Jasper," she said pathetically.

Before she could answer Sophia's question about her feelings on the sudden transfer, Blake blinked when Jasper came gliding through the door like his feet never touched the floor. He had a way of doing that, this young man. His movements were so smooth one would think that he was some supernatural creature of grace and poise.

Jasper was the limo driver of Blackfeld. Limo driver. So... Blake mentally smacked herself, remembering her earlier inquiry about a cab. Like the perfect Sophia Blackfeld needed a CAB to go places.

"My apologies, Miss Sophia," Jasper chuckled as the blond girl literally flinched at his sudden appearance. He didn't really sound sorry, but not in a jibing way. More friendly.

"It's fine, Jasper," Sophia huffed meekly, looking defeated. Blake grinned widely and gave Jasper a wave with the hand not lugging her cousin's suitcase.

Sophia let out another embarrassed sigh, letting herself relax from Jasper's sudden entry and she sent a welcoming glance to the man. "Ah, Jasper, could you help us pull the suitcases into the limo, please?" Manners, manners. Manners were everything. Especially if you were dealing with a man like Jasper.

He was crafty and knew who to talk to in order to pull some strings to get you swimming with the fishies.

"Of course, Miss Sophia." He bowed respectfully and turned towards Cyfon, whom seemed to be deemed the Suitcase Holder given that all of Sophia's baby blue suitcases were pooled at his feet or in his arms. He blinked and smiled lightly up at his friend, giving a small friendly wink and looking back over his shoulder at the young future duchess. "Lady Sophia, when our plane touches down in Tokyo, may I speak to you in private? It is important."

She blinked multiple times, her eyes shooting between Jasper and Blake with confusion and through this confusion, irritation. "Uh...yeah. Fine, whatever. Just get my crap in the car," she snapped, her expression incredulous.


End file.
